


they say boys don't cry (but your dad has shed a lot of tears)

by tempestaurora



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: (for some of it like not all but i dont care), Civil War is there and so is Ultron but just slightly different, Gen, Involves Canon Events, Irondad Spiderson - Freeform, May is Dead, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker Has a Family, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter can lift Thors Hammer Im right ok, Peter is Worthy, Peter-centric, Precious Peter Parker, Referenced Panic Attack, Swearing, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, i have never once learned how to tag, referenced infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tempestaurora/pseuds/tempestaurora
Summary: IRON MAN HAS A SONThe words were printed everywhere on every newspaper. Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, had a son. A child. A real life human being that he’d kept from the media for eight years but had slipped up and shown to the whole world.ORPeter Parker is Tony Stark's son, and Tony is determined to raise him right.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've read 500,000 words + of irondad spiderson in the previous two weeks instead of writing my own original work, so it's no surprise i'm here with the fic that i wanted to read.
> 
> i'm posting it in multiple parts bc i still have a couple thousand words to write and why not. i didnt know what to title it so idk its the lyrics to a macklemore song (growing up) lets move on.
> 
> this'll probably have about 4 chapters all updated within the next week. i'm impatient.

**2 0 0 1**

_Tony,_

_Today your son was born._

_I suppose, in many ways, he’s not your son. Only genetically, not in the ways that matter._

_His name is Peter Benjamin Parker. He was born at 6:50am on the 10 th of August, 2001, 6.1 lb. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. He is the most beautiful thing you will never see._

_Funny that – how the most wonderful thing to happen in my life, could be the worst in yours. I can just imagine the scandal – Billionaire Playboy and Underpaid Married Physicist Have an Affair and A Child. I can imagine the cameras following him. I can imagine a lot of things – can imagine the way you’ll turn your nose up at the idea of having a child, can imagine the way you’ll drink yourself numb rather than pull your weight._

_Which is why I’m not asking you to._

_Which is why I’ll never send this letter._

_But, Tony, this boy is a miracle. I look at him and see the future. I look at him and feel overwhelmed with a sense of love I’ve never known before._

_Richard thinks Peter is his, biologically. That’s the way I’m keeping it._

_Goodbye, Tony._

_Peter’s life will be better without you. It has to be._

_Mary Parker_

**2 0 0 7**

Tony hadn’t been breathing properly, not since he read the letter, thrust towards him by a short, angry Italian woman. She didn’t know he didn’t like being handed things. He was itchy when he took the paper, itchy when he read it three times, just to be sure, itchy when it crinkled in his too-tight grip.

 _Peter_.

The boy was five, almost six, small, and sitting in the waiting room of his office. Tony never came in here much, he never liked the feeling of wearing suits and sitting behind a desk, folders of things to sign being shoved towards him. He had Obie do that work for him instead. He just liked fixing things, but he couldn’t fix this, and he couldn’t fix that boy.

The door to his office was open and Tony tore his gaze from the letter to look at the kid. _The most beautiful thing he would never see_. Tony had conflicting feelings rolling around his stomach at the sight of him. His jaw clenched, the paper wrinkled further, the woman waited in silence.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he told her, walking towards the door.

For a split second, the boy looked up at him. The man sitting by his side was reading a book aloud, unaware of Tony’s gaze. But the boy – _Peter_.

Tony met his eye for a heartbeat and felt the tsunami in his stomach. He shut the office door.

“I want you to say you’ll get your fancy lawyers to draw up some paperwork,” the woman said. May, she’d told him. May Parker. The boy’s aunt.

“Paperwork.”

“The custody kind.”

He turned to her. “You want me to take _custody_ of that kid? Did you not read the letter?” The concept of raising a child didn’t sit well on his shoulders. He disliked the things Mary Parker had said about him, but they weren’t _wrong_. Someone would find out that he had a kid and Peter would never know privacy again. He wouldn’t necessarily say he was _turning his nose up_ at being a father, but he would say that he was going to unlock the liquor cabinet the moment the Parkers left and drain it entirely.

“Partial custody,” May replied, stone-faced. “Believe me, I wouldn’t give you full custody in a million years.”

“But why even _partial_? What good am I going to do for that kid?” Was his tone hostile? Probably, but he couldn’t blame himself. He imagined being a father while trying to work his way through this year’s Maxim cover models. It was July, but he was already up to June – only one scheduling error back in March, but he figured he could make up along the way.

“Because Ben and I can’t afford to raise a child,” May said, cold. “Because Ben is insistent that Peter knows where he came from, and that, unfortunately, is you.”

He thinks about the boy in the waiting room; short with that oversized hoodie. Curly brown hair and eyes that resembled his a little too much for his liking. He turned back to the paper in his hand. If he held it any tighter, he’d tear a hole.

_Peter’s life will be better without you. It has to be._

He swallowed. How would he explain this to Obie? To the world? To _Peter?_

“Fine,” he said, though his insides were fighting against him. “I’ll look after him sometimes.”

“One weekend a month,” May told him. She’d already decided, that much he could tell. “And you’ll send us a small amount of money monthly for his living costs.”

He couldn’t blame her for trying and nodded, stiff. “Child maintenance,” he said. Mary had never asked for child maintenance. Part of him wondered how well off May and Ben Parker were - he didn’t _know_ this kid, but he definitely didn’t want him to starve.

The documents would be drawn up within three days, and within seven, signed and sealed. Tony walked through it in a haze. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead of considering the small boy whose life was now inextricably tied to his, he focused on building the Jericho missile and keeping his country safe.

 

 

**2 0 1 5**

 

Tony had been on the bad side of May Parker for eight years, no matter how hard he tried. He realised, though, that he didn’t like it now he wasn’t on her bad side. He didn’t like it because she was dead ( _on impact, Mr Stark, I’m very sorry for your loss)_ and being on her bad side was better than her not _having_ a bad side to be on.

What made it worse was Ben Parker ( _on the operating table; he lost too much blood)_ being gone too. There were no sides anymore. No arguments about Peter’s curfew with them, about the maintenance money being on time, about him daring to want more days.

No arguments about Iron Man – whether he was really a shield, or instead drawing unwanted attention on Peter and putting him in danger. (The worst of those had undoubtedly been when he gave terrorists his home address in Malibu. Peter lived across the country, in Queens, New York, but it still gave him hives to think about the fact that he’d done that. That he’d _risked_ that.) (It made Ben and May fucking _livid_ , too.)

Now it was just quiet.

In the past few years, Peter had grown from that small boy in the waiting room, to a teenager – a chatty, curious teenager with lots of ideas and no filter. Yet, now, in the Audi as they drove back towards Avengers Tower, back towards home, Peter was silent.

Tony couldn’t blame him. He’d lost four parents in fourteen years, and Tony was still learning. He still wasn’t good enough for his kid.

“Do you want to stop off by the apartment to get your things?” Tony asked. Peter stared out the passenger window as if in another world – a world where his parental figures didn’t leave him, like Tony was bound to, too. “I can send Happy to get them tomorrow if you don’t want to.”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t want to go there right now,” he said, and that was that.

Tony drove them home, parking in the private section of the parking lot and taking the Alpha level elevator up to the penthouse. The constant buzz of Manhattan faded away behind them as they stood in the living room.

Peter’s feet were bare.

When he received the phone call, he’d run to the hospital without his shoes.

Tony stared at his feet, at his _son’s_ feet, and his jaw clenched. Peter was his to protect now. His alone. There was no more handing him off to May and Ben, no more letting them deal with the brunt of his teenage angst, no more leaving every vaccine and broken bone in their – much steadier than his – hands.

“I’m going to go to bed,” Peter said.

Tony reached out to touch him – to maybe pull him into a hug, tell him he’s sorry, he’s so _fucking sorry_ for all the world has thrown on him, give him the comfort a father should be able to provide for his son. His hand grazes Peter’s shoulder and his son pulls away and heads out to the corridor, not looking back.

Tony forced the thought of Mary’s letter from his head. The letter came back to him too often for his liking. Mary hadn’t even wanted him to know of Peter, let alone take him in when he’s fourteen and alone. He wasn’t ready in 2001, and he didn’t feel ready now.

 

 

**2 0 0 7 | P E T E R**

Peter’s dad was not allowed at his birthday party. He didn’t mind so much, and he didn’t think his dad – _Tony_ , as he was told to call him – cared all that much either. He has only known his dad for a month, only seen him a handful of times, and only one of those for longer than an hour.

It was strange to have another dad.

He already had Dad – or Daddy, when he was little (but he wasn’t little anymore, and Eugene from school said people only call their dads ‘Daddy’ when they’re babies), and he had Ben, too. Ben wasn’t his dad, but his uncle, and he did all the things Dad used to do when he was around. (But Dad was dead, for almost two months now, and he couldn’t do all those things anymore.)

So he had another dad, Tony, who was not allowed at his birthday party.

Aunt May said so, and Peter agreed with Aunt May on everything, so he didn’t want Tony there either.

But the day before his sixth birthday, Tony visited anyway. He smiled a little too much when he sat down by his side on the living room floor, as if trying to make up for the time he hadn’t been there and hadn’t smiled before. Peter was building the Lego helicopter that Tony had given him upon arrival, and his new father helped quietly, asking questions every now and again that Peter only wanted to answer with one or two words.

Eventually, Peter frowned.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Tony asked. Peter didn’t think Tony seemed like the Dad type. He was always a little nervous. Always looking at the clock to see how much longer he’d have to stay for. (On that one weekend Peter had spent at Tony’s apartment in Manhattan – Peter’s living room was the size of Tony’s _bathroom_ – Tony had kept looking at the clock, counting down the minutes until May would pick Peter up.)

“Why haven’t I got a new Mom?” Peter asked.

Tony frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Mommy and Dad left and you came along to be my new Dad. Where’s my new Mom? Are you going to bring her?”

Tony hesitated and Peter watched him carefully. His eyes darted around the room; clock, May, Ben, Peter.

“Well, Pete,” Tony said, “you don’t have another mom.”

“But I got another dad?”

“Well, I was always your dad,” Tony explained. “I just wasn’t around. I’m around now, though.”

“Not really,” Peter said, and turned away, back to the Lego in front of him. Tony didn’t reply, just flipped the Lego instructions over so they could get on with the next step.

The next day, he got to show his friends his new Lego helicopter, and said – out of his uncle and aunt’s ear shot – “My Dad and I built it.” If there was a hint of pride in his voice, he figured no one had to know.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> spiderman, spiderman, does whatever a spider can  
> can he keep his identity  
> a secret no he can't  
> he's not gooooood at keeping secreettsssssss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so chapters are gonna be a lil longer for now bc i didn't realise when posting the first one how long the fic would turn out to be. i really REALLY appreciate all the love and attention this fic has received so far - it absolutely makes my day to see people enjoy my work!
> 
> so pretty please enjoy and let me know your feeeeelings in the comments thanks
> 
>  
> 
> {for the record, the marvel timeline has been screwed up and retconned irl but i'd already written it before i realised. so in the movies iron man was actually kidnapped in 2010 but the movie came out in 2008. therefore, in this fic, it's 2008 and everything is based on that timeline)

**2 0 1 5**

Tony didn’t know how to get through to his kid. He was working at it, _trust him_ , but Peter spent days only coming out of his room for food. He’d arrive, take his plate and disappear back into the depths of the penthouse, far from Tony’s reach.

Pepper, Tony’s fiancé, gave him a look. “He’s mourning,” she said. “You can’t expect him to be alright so soon. Just be there when he needs you to be.”

Still, it was a trial. What was worse was getting him out the door on the funeral day.

May and Ben Parker were to be buried by Mary and Richard, a fact that had been delivered by Pepper and elicited a shudder from Tony. He’d been to Mary and Richard’s graves twice total. Once on the day of the funeral – he wore shades and a hat, stayed at the back of the crowd and waited for everyone to leave before finally approaching and staring at the coffins of the people who’d raised his son ( _son_ was always a choked word back then, that gave him acid reflux).

The second time was a few years later, with Peter. It was his one weekend in the month when he had the kid, and they’d been for ice cream and go karts and were planning to head off to the movies that afternoon when Peter had turned to him and asked to see his parents. Tony had fallen into some sort of daze that didn’t end until they were driving away from the place. Peter hadn’t cried once the whole time, and Tony had the vague memory of him telling Mary and Richard about Iron Man and how Tony was saving the world. (It was, officially, the first good thing Tony had ever heard Peter say about him.)

“I’m not going,” Peter said on the day of May and Ben’s funeral.

“That’s fine,” Tony replied, light, standing in the doorway of Peter’s room. His son (the word felt more natural coming from his mouth now) was bundled in bed, face pressed into the pillow and duvet covering his entire body like a cocoon. “If you don’t want to go, I won’t make you.”

A pause. “You won’t?”

Tony shook his head. “This is your decision. But if you’re not going, I want to make sure that it’s what you really want.”

Through the pillow, Peter’s muffled voice returns. “I don’t want to be at a funeral,” he said. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Do you want to say goodbye to them?”

There was a shift in the duvet, almost like he was nodding. “Yes,” he replied.

Tony’s brain whirred for a moment and he pushed away from the door. He settled on the side of Peter’s bed, the mattress lowering beneath him. Peter’s duvet cocoon rolled over, and his face appeared, just barely from out of it. The skin around his eyes was an angry red and Tony reached out a hand, resting it where he assumed his shoulder was.

“If you don’t want to go to the funeral, we can go early,” Tony replied. “Or, late, if you want to say goodbye after they’re buried. It’s your call. We don’t have to go to the wake, either, if you don’t want.”

“Early,” Peter said. “I want to see them. Can we skip the wake and watch movies?”

“Of course, kid, what are you thinking?”

“ _The Phantom Menace_ ,” Peter replied. “They didn’t care about _Star Wars_ so much, but when I was like, nine, I wanted to know their favourite one. I think May just chose the first one she could think of, and when we watched it together, she couldn’t stop complaining about it, but she still said it was great at the end.”

Tony smiled and left his hand on Peter’s shoulder for a moment long. “Anything you want, buddy.”

 

 

**2 0 0 8**

He woke up with a metal heart.

There was a car battery keeping him alive and a constant humming sound – the price of keeping the shrapnel from reaching his heart. Yinsen had given him a small jar as a souvenir, but all he could think about was the bomb that had his name on it. _STARK INDUSTRIES._ Since when had the bad guys had his weapons?

Since when was that _possible_?

Was he protecting his country or arming America’s enemies?

Was a cool-ass nickname like The Merchant of Death really worth the bloodshed?

It took him two days to remember his son.

 _Peter_.

The name shook him, somehow. The image in his head of a small boy – Tony’s eyes, someone else’s smile, a personality all his own – it hit him full force, a punishment for forgetting. Granted, he was captive and being forced to make a missile for terrorists, but he still forgot. He forgot about that kid he promised to protect.

_“Why do you make weapons?”_

_“To keep our country safe.”_

_“Everyone?”_

_“Everyone. Even you, Pete.”_

_“You’ll keep me safe?”_

_“… Of course, Peter. I’ll always keep you safe.”_

Peter had a penchant for making Tony invested. He had a knack of capturing his attention, just for a moment, and making him see what Mary had seen that first day he was alive, all tiny and screaming. He wasn’t father material, but he liked his son all the same.

So he took his once a month visits, paid the child maintenance, and promised his son that he’d always protect him.

But now he was in fucking God knows where, carrying a car battery everywhere, because without it he’d die, and if he was dead then that was three parents down for Peter Parker.

“Got a family?” Tony asked one night.

“Yes,” Yinsen replied, “and I will see them when I leave here. And you, Stark?”

_Peter._

“Almost,” Tony said. _Almost._

 

 

**2 0 1 5**

Slowly, they found their rhythm.

Peter went back to school, Tony went back to building suits, Pepper continued to be a one woman army (as she hadn’t really stopped). Tony met Peter’s friends – an Asian boy named Ned, who started hyperventilating the first time he stepped foot in the penthouse, and a dark-skinned girl called Michelle, who corrected him when he called her MJ, like Peter did.

“My friends call me MJ,” she told him. He got the message. (He liked her.)

Occasionally, Tony would take off in the Iron Man suit to save New York, or the world, or one guy strapped to a chair that the government didn’t want dead. On those days, he’d tell JARVIS to notify Peter and Pepper, and when he got back, usually in the dead of night, he’d stand in the doorway of Peter’s room, watching his kid breathe.

Sometimes the things he saw were too much, even for him. Sometimes, he’d watch Peter breathe just to know he was still doing it. Sometimes, Tony would wonder if he would’ve watched Peter sleep when he was a baby; just watching for hours on end, in case him looking away would be all it took for Peter to stop. (He would’ve been, he knows he would’ve been, if he’d just been given the chance.)

Their rhythm was off beat sometimes, with Tony remembering the wormhole in the sky, the expansion of his known universe as aliens poured through into the city, as he remembered Pepper falling from his grasp into the fire, and shrapnel embedding itself into his chest in the middle of the desert.

And occasionally, he’d wake up to JARVIS’ calls, rush to Peter’s room and coax him from a nightmare, never able to guess which one it was that time. It could’ve been the plane crash, May’s head going through the windshield, Ben on the operating table. (What he didn’t know, may never know, was that on the list of nightmares Peter Parker had, Tony being abducted in Afghanistan featured often, too.)

 

*

 

Peter was doing homework at the adjacent table in Tony’s lab as he watched videos online. He wouldn’t mention it out loud, but he was searching; recruiting. Now Tony was a member of the Avengers Initiative (a _founding_ member, thank you very much), he had to consider the future. If an alien invasion could happen once, it could happen again, but there was no telling when.

Someday, long after Tony, there might be a need for heroes. He figured it was best to start recruitment now.

On the screen, a bus with shot-out brakes sped towards a building. The sound was down low so Tony could barely hear the screams. Somewhere in Queens, this had happened, and somehow, no one died. No – not somehow, because Tony knew how. _Queens_ knew how.

A blur of red and blue shot into the frame, swinging in front of the bus with long, white wires. The figure landed on the road, braced themselves, and caught the bus with their bare hands, forcing it to a halt before it hit the building.

“You grew up in Queens,” Tony said, musing aloud. “You ever heard of this _Spiderman_?”

Peter made a choking noise, before humming. “Yeah, briefly. They’re pretty new.”

“Yeah,” Tony murmured. “They caught a bus.”

“Oh, I saw that video,” Peter replied. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Tony looked over to Peter and nodded, absent. This Spider-guy wore pyjamas and dark googles. They stopped petty crimes, like muggings and liquor store robberies. They gave directions to old ladies and picked kids up off the street. But they’d _caught a bus with their bare hands_.

There was potential there.

Tony marked their name down on the list.

 

 

**2 0 0 8 | P E T E R**

Tony was on the news.

Normally, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but Tony was on the news for a _bad thing_. He hadn’t done anything wrong as far as Peter could tell, but the news lady said he was missing and that was never good.

“Ben?” Peter asked.

He was sitting on the floor in front of a thousand-piece puzzle. It was coming together and Peter was pretty sure this was his fastest puzzle time yet. Ben was behind him on the sofa, watching the news with his brows furrowed.

“Yeah, Peter,” Ben sighed, and that was all Peter needed to know. Tony was missing.

Tony – new Dad – was gone. Not just gone, according to the news lady, but _missing in action_.

There had been an attack on his car when he was out in Afghanistan (he’d asked Ben to teach him how to pronounce it), and no one could find him. Everyone else, the news lady said, was dead.

Peter had never missed Tony before.

Usually, Tony was a presence best left unmentioned. May didn’t like him, didn’t like to talk about him, and didn’t like the monthly gifts Peter was given after spending the weekend with him. He was in the news a lot though. Tony Stark ran a big company that made lots of cool stuff, and lots of slightly less cool stuff.

They had the world’s only arc reactor (that Tony took him to see after Peter asked six times in a row) and they made the _coolest_ weaponry for the US military. (Peter, decidedly, had _not_ been allowed to see that.)

It wasn’t long until May got a phone call from Colonel Rhodes, giving her the news (as if she hadn’t already heard on the television) and swearing on his life that they’d find him. Only half an hour later, Pepper Potts – Tony’s personal assistant – had called too and asked to talk to Peter.

“Hello?”

 _“Hey, Peter,”_ Pepper said. He smiled, despite the situation. He liked Pepper. Even though Tony looked after him one weekend a month, sometimes he’d be really busy and Pepper would hang out with Peter instead. She always smiled and not in the too long way. _“Have you heard about what happened to Tony?”_

“It’s on the news. Is he coming back?”

 _“I hope so, Peter,”_ Pepper replied. _“I really hope so_.”

 

*

 

Tony came back.

Peter was allowed to be there when he did. There’d be no cameras and reporters (Tony always made sure they never saw Peter), just a few soldiers. May and Ben both had work, despite the occasion, so Peter sat in the back seat of the car with Pepper as Happy drove them to the army base.

Peter talked the whole time. Constantly. Non-stop.

He couldn’t remember how _not_ to speak, so he kept going and going, even though Pepper was only giving one word answers and quiet hums by the time they arrived. He paused to take a breath as they parked.

“You’re nervous, huh?” Pepper said.

Peter found himself without words and nodded.

“Rhodey said he’s fine, and they’ll arrive soon. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

In the front of the car, Happy got out. Peter frowned. “Tony isn’t usually happy to see me.”

Pepper’s face froze for a split second before she reached over and smoothed his hair. Her hand was gentle and soft as she cupped his cheek. “Tony cares about you a lot,” she said. “He’s always happy to see you. Sometimes, he’s distracted with all his work, but before your visits he’s always excited and trying to think of cool places to take you. He’ll be happy to see you, I’m sure.”

Peter smiled. He trusted Pepper and he liked her a lot. If she said something, Peter was inclined to agree. He nodded and climbed out of the car when Happy opened his door, Pepper following after.

They were early, but soon enough the plane was landing. It had been three months since Tony had disappeared. Three months since he’d seen him last.

_“Yeah, I’m heading out to Afghanistan next weekend for a demo, that’s why we’re hanging out this weekend instead. Hey, Pete, you wanna build a robot? Ben said you’re getting really good with your beginners robotics sets.”_

They’d built a remote control car that had a cup holder and recorded Peter’s voice for its speaker. They tested it out that afternoon; Tony made Peter a drink and placed it in the holder, and Peter drove the car over. When it arrived, the speaker squealed _“Enjoy your drink!”_ and Peter felt immensely proud.

Pepper placed her free hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Ahead of them, the plane landed, and the door lowered.

Colonel Rhodes helped Tony out of his wheelchair and they walked out into the sunlight. Peter swallowed. Tony looked like the kid Eugene had beaten up last week. He had cuts all over his face and his arm was in a sling across his chest.

“Dad,” Peter breathed. He’d never called Tony ‘Dad’ before. He hoped Pepper didn’t hear him.

Tony brushed off the paramedics that arrived with a gurney, and made a beeline for Pepper and Peter, waiting by the car. He looked at Pepper first.

“Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long-lost boss?”

Pepper smiled. “Tears of joy. I hate job hunting.”

Tony grinned, and then looked down to Peter. His smile didn’t falter as he crouched down.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his one good arm holding onto Peter’s shoulder. “Hey, how’s it been without me?” Peter swallowed and ducked his head. “Peter?” He kept his eyes averted as he darted forward and grabbed Tony in a hug. Tony hissed quietly, but held Peter anyway, his good arm tight around Peter’s back. “Yeah, I missed you too, buddy.”

The funny thing was, Peter _had_ missed Tony. Dad.

Tony called an immediate press conference, and Peter was dropped off with Colonel Rhodes, a block away. They walked to the building themselves, entered through a back door to hide at the back of the crowd. This way no one would see Peter. The two of them arrived just in time for Tony to announce that he wouldn’t make weapons anymore.

“What does that mean?” Peter asked, tugging on Rhodey’s sleeve.

“I don’t know, kid,” Rhodey replied. He didn’t look happy. “I don’t know.”

 

 

**2 0 1 5 | P E T E R**

Peter was an idiot. No – no, don’t argue. He was. He had been bitten by a fucking _radioactive spider_ on a trip to Oscorp, proceeded to _not tell anyone_ when he gained powers, and then decided to live a double life as a _goddamn vigilante called Spiderman_. All under Tony motherfucking Stark’s roof.

To be fair – he was bitten by the spider before his aunt and uncle died.

But that didn’t mean jack shit. It just meant that Peter, despite his fancy smart person school, still elected to make the dumbest decision of his life.

At least four times a week, he’d change into his Spiderman costume in an alley outside of school, and claim he was at band practice or decathlon club. He’d proceed to swing around the city, saving lives and getting bikes back when petty thieves stole them.

He’d make the web fluid at school during Chemistry, or occasionally in a corner in his dad’s lab, if he knew Tony wouldn’t be back for a while. He’d built his webshooters out of supplies Tony had lying around, and he somehow got it past him that he’d suddenly _stopped needing glasses_.

To be fair, Tony was a distracted man and had more important things to worry about than if his kid that he was seeing every other week had somehow fixed his vision without telling him. Still, Peter was also a little bit jacked. Tony didn’t seem to notice.

But for a while (a long while, actually, like a solid six months) Tony didn’t seem to notice and Peter could get away with his secret vigilante activities masquerading as extracurriculars. A couple of months after Peter had moved in, Tony had brought up Spiderman, but he hadn’t heard of it again. In fact, Tony had moved on to occasionally bringing up other vigilantes, like Daredevil, out in Hell’s Kitchen, or S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that had superpowers. All Peter knew was that Tony kept an eye on things, and people, and he’d just need to be careful.

And he _was_ being careful, when he was shot. But he was shot anyway, which sucked.

The bullet pierced his clothes (it was a hoodie, Peter wasn’t surprised) and then the skin of his hip. He swore like seven times before webbing up the guy. Then it was a matter of getting back to the penthouse.

It often surprised Peter had no one had seen him scaling Avengers Tower. It was the official Stark Industries building in New York (the company’s base moving when Tony did to be closer to Peter in 2010), and press often stood outside the building, waiting for a scoop. Still, they never saw him, and Peter always hoped he was too fast for anyone watching from inside.

This time, he was bleeding, it was long past midnight and no matter how hard he tried, it was just a _struggle_ to climb the tower. Due to the height of the tower, the windows in the penthouse didn’t open very far – Peter had fiddled with it and the hinges until it would open wide enough for him to slip through, and always left it open a crack on the days he was planning to patrol.

However, with a bullet wound in his hip (it had passed straight through without hitting the bone, as far as he could tell), and exhaustion wracking his body, it was just his luck that his window was firmly shut.

“Shit,” Peter said. The word summed up the situation quite well in his opinion.

Carefully, he climbed around the building until he reached the balcony that stretched out in a U shape from the main living area of the penthouse. He dropped down and groaned when the pressure on his leg aggravated his hip. Then, he turned to the door.

The door, by the way, was glass.

And due to his Parker Luck™, the lights were on. And Tony was home. And Tony was _watching_ Peter through the glass door, glass of scotch in his hand.

“Oh,” Peter said. He had two options, in his eyes: he could run, or he could face his father and get some godforsaken medical attention.

Peter may be an idiot, but he’s not a moron.

He really needed the medical attention.

When Peter took off his mask and smiled sheepishly at his dad, the glass of scotch shattered on the floor of the penthouse. Peter was in for a long night.

 

*

 

“ _MY SON IS SPIDERMAN.”_

“Say it for the whole city to hear, why don’t you,” Peter grumbled.

“ _MY SON IS FUCKING SPIDERMAN_. You are _so_ grounded ‘til your thirty.”

 

 

**2 0 0 8 | P E T E R**

My dad is _Iron Man._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u don't already know, if tony stark is ooc i'll cry
> 
> (also i'm upset there isnt an irondad spiderson pacific rim au so like,,,, if i wrote one who would read it)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> say it with me: tony stark is a good dad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> over 130 of you decided to subscribe to this story???????????????????? i love you guys maybe i'll have to write more irondad spiderson in the future  
> if u wanna send me prompts or follow me or hang out or sOMETHING, my tumblr is [tempestaurora](http://tempestaurora.tumblr.com/)

**2 0 0 9**

It had been six months since Afghanistan and Tony was _trying_.

He asked for more time to see Peter, he phoned more, just to talk to him, he even flew Peter out to Malibu for a week outside of school time. Peter was always asking questions, endlessly curious and interested in everything Iron Man. Despite May’s (logical) aversion to Tony, Peter had an Iron Man mask that he wore just about everywhere, an Iron Man t-shirt that he was wearing the day Tony arrived in New York for the Stark Expo, _and_ an Iron Man action figure that had only a few inaccuracies.

His kid, needless to say, was a fan.

And Tony was a fan of Peter.

It was strange to think he’d only known the kid for two years, and even stranger to think he needed to be abducted by terrorists to realise how much the child had imprinted on him. Peter meant a lot to Tony, and Tony wanted to prove it.

Ben and Peter were attending the Stark Expo opening ceremony, and Tony had given them a pass that would get them through all year (and a t-shirt in Peter’s size). It was a big event but Tony wanted it. He wanted to celebrate Iron Man, celebrate privatising world peace. He was the shield they needed; one man with the fire power to keep people safe, a suit of armour that _couldn’t_ be duplicated for at least five or ten years, and especially not by America’s enemies.

God, he was on a roll.

He was saving the world and being a good dad. Peter even looked _excited_ when he arrived every month for their allotted weekend (Ben and May were still hesitant about giving him more than that). And Pepper was going to become CEO, because why the fuck did he want that next to his name?

His ducks were in a neat little row.

He couldn’t talk to Peter with the cameras around – Peter knew as much – but he still gave Peter a smile and a pat on the head as he left after the Stark Expo opening ceremony. He was with the rest of the fans that waited by the backstage door.

Then his ducks stopped being in a row: Hammer, Vanko, the plutonium in his suit was slowly killing him (and he was desperate to find a replacement, he _had_ to find a replacement, he was _not_ going to be the third parent his kid lost). There was also Natalie, who was actually a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, because _of course_ she was.

He had to keep going, though. He’d promised to protect Peter, and he’d promised to keep the world safe, so he kept going, kept working, rediscovered and then _created_ a brand new element (fondly called Badassium). Things were looking up.

And then Hammer revealed the Hammer Drones at the Stark Expo, and they were hacked by Vanko.

And then, he was flying, shooting, fighting and trailblazing his way across the sky, drones on his tail and his best friend’s suit hi-jacked. His heart lurched, however, when he looked down and saw a kid, alone in the street, wearing an Iron Man mask. In front of him, a Hammer Drone stood, arm raising slowly in time to the kid’s. _Peter._

The thought almost suffocated him.

He landed behind his kid, shot the drone with his repulsor. There were more on his tail.

“Nice work, kid,” he said, shooting back off into the sky. Gotta keep them away from Peter, gotta keep them away from Pepper, gotta keep everyone safe.

It was after, when Vanko was dead, the drones had exploded and he’d taken Pepper to a rooftop to apologise and also kiss her (because the moment felt dramatic, okay), that he made a phone call to Ben.

“Ben?”

_“Tony?”_

“Is Peter okay?”

_“Peter’s fine. He’s with me. I lost him in the crowd there for a bit, but he’s okay.”_

The relief crashed through Tony’s body. “He’s not hurt? He wasn’t near any of the drones when they went off?”

_“He’s fine, Tony. I promise.”_

Still. “Where are you?”

_“Near the pavilion, behind the police line.”_

Tony looked to Pepper.

“Go,” she said. “Go see him.”

His ducks were all in a line, theoretically speaking. He’d saved the day, Peter was safe, Pepper wasn’t mad at him anymore (which – fair, she deserved to be mad at him; he had been facing his mortality, gotten _pissed_ and destroyed half the house in an Iron Man suit fight with Rhodey). Then, they weren’t anymore.

The ducks fell out of line once more, because he landed back at the pavilion, spotted Peter in the crowd and all he could do was hug his boy and lift him off his feet, his arms wrapped around as much of his shoulders as he could grasp when he wore the suit. Tony pressed a kiss into the side of Peter’s head and held him close.

He didn’t even notice the paparazzi.

 

 

**2 0 1 5**

If Peter Parker was going to be Spiderman, then there were going to be some ground rules.

“First, your curfew is midnight. If you’re _one minute late_ I’m taking the suit and handcuffing you to your bed.”

“Very _child imprisonment_ of you,” Peter commented.

“Second,” Tony continued, “you’re going to tell me when you’re going out as Spiderman. I want to _know_. I want you to also alert me if you’re ever injured, or distressed, or kidnapped.”

Peter sighed and flopped back against the bed. He was in the medbay of Stark Industries, and everyone had been cleared from the floor bar Dr Banner and Dr Helen Cho. They were running full diagnostics of his abilities, so they could learn to treat him better in future.

“Third, you are not going out as Spiderman again until you have a new suit.”

Peter’s head snapped up. _“What?”_

“You heard me. A bullet tore right through that thing today and you didn’t even think to _call_ me.”

“To be fair, I don’t have any pockets in this thing for a phone,” Peter replied.

“You can be safer,” Tony continued, as if Peter hadn’t spoken. “We’re going to make you a suit that keeps you _safe_.”

“We?”

Tony smiled. “We.”

Peter was almost giddy with excitement. “Does this mean I get to be an Avenger?”

“Hold your horses there, kid,” Tony replied. “One thing at a time.”

Peter was a _long_ way off from being an Avenger. For starters, he didn’t even know that the suit they were building had a Training Wheels Protocol. Tony was excited for when he would get past it and discover the AI he’d built for the kid.

But that was a long way off and became even further distant when Tony and Banner became too interested in the concept - in an AI that could protect the world. Then came Ultron, and Tony watched as it gave itself a body and attacked the Avengers as they lounged about in the living room.

They’d been trying to lift Thor’s hammer. It was harmless fun; they felt miles from any threat up in the tower, and so safe because it was _them._ It was the _Avengers_.

Peter didn’t like to miss hanging out with the Avengers. He liked to be there every chance he got and Tony was happy enough to let him. They were just drinking, hanging out, when Thor placed the hammer on the coffee table.

“So who shall ever, be he worthy, have the power – whatever man,” Clint said, shaking his head. “It’s a trick!”

“It’s much more than that, my friend,” Thor said with a grin.

Tony stood. It was a trick, come on. It’s just a hammer. “If I lift it, do I get to rule Asgard?” he asked.

“Yes,” Thor replied. “Of course.”

“I will be fair but firmly cruel,” Tony replied and grabbed the handle. He pulled with all of his strength and yet-

Nothing.

He tried again.

Peter laughed from his seat on the sofa.

Tony got the Iron Man gauntlet, tried again. And again, with Rhodey. And yet-

“I don’t think it’s a trick, Dad,” Peter said. Trust him to side with Thor; even Tony could tell the kid was a little in love with the guy.

Still, Steve gave it a go and even for Mr Moral Compass, the hammer didn’t budge an inch.

“Wanna give it a go?” Banner asked Nat.

She smiled with a shake of her head. “That’s not something I wanna know.”

“What about you, Pete?” Banner said.

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yeah, kid,” Clint said. “Give it a go.”

Peter looked to Thor, who nodded and gestured with a hand towards the hammer.

“Come on, Pete,” Tony said with a grin. “Rule Asgard for me.”

Peter stood, sending a nervous smile towards Tony as he shook his hands in preparation. He let out a breath, put his hands on the handle and tugged.

Without hesitation, the hammer followed.

The room was silent, and Tony watched, mouth wide open, as Peter’s face broke into the widest grin he’d ever seen.

“Oh, no way!” Peter breathed. “No freaking _way_!”

Peter Parker – Tony Stark’s flesh and blood _son_ – could lift Thor’s hammer.

Thor, by the way, looked as Tony did. He let out a forced laugh.

“Does this mean my kid’s the new king of Asgard?” Tony asked when he got his breath back. Peter was mock-swinging the hammer with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Uh, maybe a squire? For now. Maybe when he’s older.”

“How much older?” Peter asked. “Because I think this really suits me.”

The whole room felt so alight, so happy.

“When you get to my age,” Thor replied, “then maybe we can talk about it.”

“And how old are you?”

“A little over one thousand five hundred earth years,” Thor replied.

Peter almost dropped the hammer.

He didn’t get a chance to respond though, because that was when hell broke loose and Ultron announced his presence, called humans _unworthy_ despite Peter holding the hammer, and vowed to destroy them all. The hammer shot from Peter’s hand to Thor’s and then through the robot body, but another one appeared only a moment later. Dread settled in Tony’s stomach.

He turned to Peter. “Get in the suit and go,” he said. “Go to Ned’s. Stay there until I call you.”

“But I can _help_ ,” he insisted.

“Not with this,” Tony said. “This is well above your pay grade.”

“Dad-”

“Peter, for the love of God, _go._ ”

 

 

**2 0 0 9**

**IRON MAN HAS A SON**

The words were printed everywhere on every newspaper. Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, had a son. A child. A real life human being that he’d kept from the media for eight years but had slipped up and shown to the whole world.

Initially, it was only conspiracy.

Iron Man with a boy in an Iron Man mask at the Stark Expo. They looked close, friendly. They couldn’t see the kid’s face.

Tony had wanted to stay in New York a little longer – he wanted to be near Peter, wanted to be near his family. (On the down low, he’d started looking for a place he could move Stark Industries to.) He took Peter out for ice cream. Someone caught a photo.

The photo was everywhere and he felt like throwing up.

Ben and May weren’t happy, of course they weren’t. They’d worked for _years_ to keep this from happening.

Tony thought back to that letter: _Billionaire Playboy and Underpaid Married Physicist Have an Affair and A Child. I can imagine the cameras following him._

Tony didn’t need to imagine it – it was right in front of him. The cameras were already following him, so the best thing they could do in Pepper and PR’s opinion, was get in front of the matter entirely.

They called a press conference.

Tony read from the fucking cards, this time.

“It has come to our attention that there has been speculation on the identity of a child that has been photographed multiple times in my company. Those that have dug deeper have discovered the same child in photographs with me all the way back to 2007. Today, I am here to address the rumours.” Tony took a breath. Everyone was silent. Christine Everhart was watching from the front row with a smirk – she’d broken the story about the weapons, Iron Man, and Peter.

“In 2000, I had a brief encounter with a woman whose identity we have chosen to keep a secret. In 2001, she gave birth to a boy. My son.” The room filled with chatter, and Tony held up a hand and waited for it to be over. “Upon her death in 2007, her family took it upon themselves to inform me about my son’s existence, which I had not known of before. My son, Peter, is eight years old. He is inquisitive, funny and bright, with an interest in science and robotics. As of yesterday, he wants to be the President of the United States when he grows up, or a tiger, whichever is easier.”

Laughter echoes throughout the room. Tony couldn’t help but smile as he talked about his son. “For obvious reasons, I have kept this news private. I request that you give us our privacy and you let the boy grow without cameras breathing down his neck. I will, briefly, take questions.”

There were only two he took, in the end.

“Is Peter showing signs of having the same intellect as you and your father?”

“Peter is as intelligent as they come, but I think it’s important to note that he’s kinder than I have ever been. Better.”

“Are you planning to pass Stark Industries onto Peter?”

Tony smiled, more to himself than to anyone else. He’d read that letter of Mary’s a hundred times; kept it in his bedside drawer for the first few months and read it to confirm his doubts that he wouldn’t be a good father. He’d stopped reading it a long time ago. He knew it off by heart, and he was determined to prove her wrong. Still, he knew the words.

“I look at him and I see the future.”

 

 

**2 0 1 6**

Tony couldn’t help but think of Mary and Richard Parker on their doomed flight. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew they were killed; had seen it somewhere, had the knowledge floating around his head that it was a conspiracy, that they weren’t just scientists but S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. He couldn’t help but think of Peter, alone at age six and defenceless.

The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria Stark. He’d never thought of it as a conspiracy, only a car crash, an unfortunate event. But there were conspiracies hiding in the shadows.

He couldn’t help but think of the nursery rhyme that he’d sung to Peter once, when he was sick on their weekend. It was the only one he could remember but Peter accepted the gesture all the same.

_Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down._

****

**2 0 1 6 | P E T E R**

Tony took Spiderman to Germany. A real mission. His first _real mission_.

In the back of his head, he figured he knew why he was being brought.

Firstly, he’d seen the recruitment list that Tony had made before Ultron. He knew his name was on it. Secondly, and more importantly, Tony _knew_ the Avengers _._ Whether they were outlaws or not, they weren’t shooting to kill.

Tony couldn’t trust real enemies – the kind that hadn’t been friends first. The kind that he usually fought. Tony couldn’t trust the Avengers anymore either, apparently, but in a different way.

Peter knew that if Captain America wanted to lay him out, he could. For the most part, the Avengers didn’t know his identity as Spiderman – it was just for the time being, until Peter had gained some traction and was known as more than just Queens’ vigilante. The only Avenger who knew was Natasha, and that was because she was nosy (and a secret agent/assassin – you couldn’t keep anything from her).

Still, though, Peter had the strange feeling that everyone was going to go a little bit easy on each other, while pretending to be giving their all.

They didn’t want to hurt each other, not really.

So Peter made a video diary of the trip and tried to have some fun.

 

 

**2 0 1 0**

“Tony!” Peter cried as he rushed into the penthouse. In the elevator, May and Ben followed after, not bothering to hide their awe at Tony’s new home.

“Pete!” Tony replied with a grin. Peter ran into Tony’s arms and he hefted his son up into a hug. His kid was getting big now. Nine years old but still just about light enough for Tony to carry.

“This place is so cool! May! Ben! Look at this! Is this really your _home_?” Peter’s happiness was contagious; it bubbled up out of him and overflowed into everyone around.

Tony grinned. “Sure is, kid. Brand new and all mine. Do you wanna see your room?”

Peter’s eyes turned into saucers. “I get a room?”

“Of course you get a room. Did you think you were gonna sleep on the sofa?”

Peter grinned wide and Tony set him back on the ground. Pepper emerged from the corridor and Peter ran over to greet her. Tony looked back to May and Ben as they approached, approving looks on their faces.

“I didn’t think you’d go through with it,” May admitted, “but I’m glad to see you did.”

“And what’s that?” Tony asked.

“Moving to New York full time,” she replied. “I thought you’d keep it cross-country. When you mentioned you were moving here, I thought you’d back out.”

Tony didn’t take it to heart. He’d been working on that, but he liked the feeling of proving her wrong; of proving Mary wrong, too, even if she was right about who he was before Peter.

“I want to be closer to Peter,” he said. “Moving across the country was no big thing when I thought about that.”

 

 

**2 0 1 6 | P E T E R**

Peter Parker was an idiot. Still.

He thought he’d grown smarter as he got older, but he was still the same idiot getting shot and trying to scale Avengers Tower that he had always been. At one point, he’d wondered that if he’d tacked ‘Stark’ onto the end of his name, he’d be smarter, but he decided against that. Tony was completely understanding, of course, but Peter was the last Parker left standing. He cared about that.

Anyway, an idiot.

It had been a good few months since the Avengers had their “Civil War”, as it was called in the press. Avengers Tower was still called Avengers Tower, despite there being very few Avengers left in it. Maybe that was why Tony was looking to move upstate.

“There aren’t any tall buildings there,” Peter had pointed out.

“Your point being?”

“I can’t Spiderman very well in the _Suburbs_.”

It was a work in progress. Tony had considered staying in Avengers Tower but moving the base of operations of there, or maybe moving out there and keeping the tower for Stark Industries. Who knew? Not Peter. He just cared about getting to go to Midtown still and being able to stop crime in his spare time. Tony promised both of those things, no matter where they lived.

Still, despite the floors of empty bedrooms beneath the penthouse, Spiderman still went out on patrol a few days a week. It was still daylight outside when the Bad Thing happened. When the Terrible, No Good, Just Awful Thing happened. When Parker Luck™ struck.

“Karen,” Peter said, watching from a rooftop. “Is _any_ alien tech activity going on _at all_?” He’d been after the Vulture for a few weeks now, but the guy kept getting away. His henchmen, as Peter called them, were out and about a lot more, and he’d had his suit’s AI run facial recognition on them for the last three days. They’d step in front of a camera eventually.

(His AI, by the way, was unlocked after he completed the Training Wheels Protocol. Tony celebrated the achievement with cake and _one_ glass of champagne for Peter. In the most surreal moment of 2015, Tony’s AI, JARVIS, had Pinocchio’d into a Real Boy called Vision, and Tony had done some _major_ upgrades to his AI system, so the whole Ultron thing wouldn’t happen again. Tony’s AI was called FRIDAY, Peter’s Karen, and he considered them to be best friends.)

“Now you mention it, Peter,” Karen replied, “no, there’s not.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes.

“We do, however, have a report of the Green Goblin. Two streets up.”

“Fuck yes.”

“Language, Peter,” Karen droned. “The Baby Monitor Protocol is in effect, and IronDad does not want to see you swear.”

Peter was too busy swinging across the street to pay her any attention, and he kept his eyes peeled for the familiar face. The Green Goblin appeared every now and again to stir up general trouble with evil intentions. Peter couldn’t figure out his motive, so it was usually a case-by-case web him up and scare him off situation. One of these days, he’d catch him for real and the guy would get arrested.

Unfortunately for Goodness everywhere, today was not that day.

Rather, when Spiderman leapt into battle, something bad happened.

It started okay. Peter was webbing in the right places, he was snatching people away from falling rubble, keeping the civilians at bay. The Green Goblin hadn’t hurt anyone today and that was a win. But the fucker flew on some hoverboard, and he threw bombs towards buildings to grab Spiderman’s attention.

Peter hated that it worked. Hated that he had to save the civilians and let the Green Goblin get away to do it again another day.

He managed to grab the first bomb with a web and throw it into the air, detonating harmlessly above them. He kicked the other bomb out the window, too, before leaping out after it blew in the direction of the Goblin.

“Hey!” he called. “Ugly! I’m not done with you yet!”

He swung himself towards the Goblin, landing precariously on his hoverboard.

“But I am done with you,” the villain replied.

It happened in a heartbeat.

The Green Goblin reached their hand towards his face, and he didn’t move in time. His spider-sense was going crazy in the back of his mind, and he went to duck, truly he did. But the Goblin grabbed his mask with one hand and shoved him with the other.

Peter fell.

Not Spiderman, but Peter. Unmasked.

He fell landed in a roll before climbing back onto his feet.

“Goodbye Spiderman!” the Goblin called, waving his mask in the air. “And goodbye Spiderman’s secret identity!” The Green Goblin shot off on his hoverboard, and Peter took a single breath before reaching his hand to his face.

Bare skin. Bare face. For _everyone_ to see.

People were already taking photos, already recording the incident on their phones. He swallowed, breathing quickening, and Peter shot a single web up to pull him away. _Oh no no no no no no._

Karen was gone; she couldn’t tell him what to do. He just had to get home. He had to get back to the Tower so he could tell Tony. Yeah. Tell Tony.

_Dad will know what to do._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just watched age of ultron again and its actually a better film than i remember it to be.
> 
> also, for the record, there's one chapter left. it'll be posted tomorrow. just hold out til then.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the shortest chapter but it's the ending so what are you gonna do.  
> events happen.

**2 0 1 1**

 

Tony met Flash Thompson once and thought that kid was no good. He was worse than when Tony was his age, and that was saying something.

Peter, ten years old and incapable of thinking a bad thing about anybody, shrugged. “I can’t invite the whole class to my birthday party and not him,” he insisted.

“Why do you need everyone in the class to come to your birthday?” Tony replied. They were sitting at the kitchen island, eating breakfast. The weekends were always Tony’s favourite time of the week. Pepper sat at his side, still in her pyjamas, nursing a cup of coffee.

“Because if I only invite a few people everyone else will be left out,” Peter responded.

Tony shared a look with Pepper, who grinned in response. Tony loved Pepper and loved that she loved Peter.

“But do you _want_ a big birthday party?” Pepper asked with a smile.

Peter frowned and shoved a heaping spoon of cereal into his mouth.

“What is it that you want to do for your birthday?” Tony added. He knew that May and Ben were planning to plan a party. It was in the early stages. Tony, honestly, wanted to throw the party himself, but there were some things that he wasn’t given the reins for.

“I want to play laser tag,” he said. “And I want my favourite people to be there.”

“Does that include the whole class?” Pepper asked. Peter hesitated and Pepper stood from her chair to reach over to the kitchen counter, where a notepad and pen sat. She slid it over to Peter. “Why don’t you write down the names of your favourite people? Then we can get the ball rolling with planning a party.”

Peter spent the rest of breakfast pondering over his list. He wouldn’t let either of them see it until it was complete, and when he was done, he pushed it across the table, proud.

 

_MY ~~FAVEO~~ FAVORITE PEOPLE:_

_Ned_

_Michelle_

_May_

_Ben_

_Dad_

_Pepper_

Tony would’ve thought he would be a natural at laser tag, considering his status as Iron Man, but they played three rounds and he couldn’t have been more wrong. Peter and his friends, however, had a knack for it, and enjoyed gloating immensely.

 

 

**2 0 1 6**

“Boss, Peter has arrived on the balcony.”

FRIDAY’s voice made Tony look up from his work. He glanced over to the balcony, where through the glass doors, he saw Peter. Maskless.

There was this sickening sense of déjà vu in the pit of his stomach.

Peter pushed the door open and stepped inside. Last time they faced each other like this, Peter had tried to make excuses to lighten the blow. This time, he said nothing, and the expression on his face said more than his words could’ve.

“Who saw you?” Tony asked.

Peter shook his head. “Everyone.”

 

*

 

They called a press conference. They didn’t know what else to do.

By six pm, they were standing in the green room behind the press room of the Avengers Tower, fifty reporters crowding the space behind the doors. Peter looked pale and he’d bitten his fingernails to the stubs. Tony let out a breath and placed his hands on his son’s shoulders.

“You’re going to be fine.”

“I’m fifteen,” Peter said, weak. “I’m too young to go out there and be a superhero.”

“I was only a little older than you when I went to MIT,” Tony said, his voice low. “It was the scariest thing in my life, moving out. Part of me – that narcissistic, rich boy part – felt like I’d be the hottest shit on campus, but mostly I was petrified. I felt small. Too small to be out on my own, too young to be doing what I was doing. But you know what?”

“You graduated summa cum laude at nineteen?”

Tony exhaled a smile. “Yes, but that’s not the point. I was sixteen, but I was _good_. I was talented. I was trying my best. That’s like you, Pete. You’re a kid, but you’re doing your best, and your best is pretty damn good. When you go out there, you just have to remember that you have something none of those morons have.”

“Weird spider powers?”

“The straightest moral compass since 1940s Captain America,” Tony replied. “Also a rich dad who will buy you out of trouble if need be.” Peter cracked a smile and Tony grinned. “I’m gonna be right there next to you, and whatever happens after, happens. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter said, nodding.

The door behind them creaked open and Pepper slipped through with a nod. “They’re ready for you.”

Tony was about to straighten and turn to the door when Peter placed a hand on his shoulder. It slipped around his back and Tony held his son, feeling Peter’s muscles slowly relax. When they pulled apart, Tony adjusted Peter’s tie – they’d dressed up, for formality’s sake – and smiled.

“Hey, Dad?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Am I gonna have to sign the Accords?”

“Yeah, kid.”

Tony turned to the door.

“Dad?”

He looked back.

“Can I be an Avenger now?”

Tony let out a laugh. “Keep pushing your luck and the only thing you’re gonna be is grounded.”

 

 

**2 0 1 2 | P E T E R**

Aliens.

Peter was sent out of the city immediately, May and Ben in tow. Only, if they failed in New York, it wouldn’t matter where they ran. The aliens would find them anywhere.

Peter watched with baited breath as his father flew into the wormhole on the television. He let out a sob and shook off whoever’s hands were trying to comfort him.

“Dad,” he cried. “Daddy! Come back.”

Tony was gone too long. Too long. Too long.

The wormhole was shrinking, too.

Peter couldn’t turn away. He didn’t want to lose his father to space. He wouldn’t do it.

Tony Stark’s suit-clad figure fell through the closing wormhole and Peter cried. He learnt very quickly not to remind his father of the day in New York, of the expanse on the other side of the wormhole. Peter didn’t want to remember it either.

 

 

**2 0 1 3**

Tony took Peter with him on vacation to California. He missed the ocean on this side of the country. There were photographers and he hated that Peter was getting used to them. Mostly, Peter just looked away and didn’t speak to them. If they came too close, he’d grab onto Tony’s hand to keep from being separated.

In Malibu, Tony showed Peter all the sights: where his house used to be on the cliff, where his factories used to stand in the city. The place he danced with Pepper.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Hey, Peter.”

“When are you gonna marry Pepper?”

“Uh-”

“I just think you should. You love her and she loves you. She moved to New York with you _and_ she’s the only birthday you remember every year.”

“She set my calendar to remind me,” Tony replied. “And, hey, I remember yours.”

Peter shrugged. “I just think you should marry her, is all.”

 

 

**2 0 1 4**

 

Tony should marry Pepper.

His kid was right. So he flew her to Italy because she loved the architecture in Venice and he proposed on the shady balcony of their villa, overlooking the canal. It was the morning and they were both hungover, drinking coffee, with her legs draped over his as she read the morning newspaper. In _Italian_ , might he add.

He looked at her, and he asked, because what else could he have done in that moment?

When they returned to New York, Peter cheered. Tony settled himself on the edge of his bed that night and asked, “Would you be my best man?”

“ _I’m_ your best man?” Peter asked. “But Rhodey’s better than me! And taller!”

“But you’re my son,” Tony replied. “That makes you the best there is.”

 

 

**2 0 1 4 | P E T E R**

Fucking spider. Fucking Oscorp. Fucking-

Peter vomited for three days straight. He shook, sweated and retched out everything inside him. At one point, he hallucinated a spider god. He wasn’t sure what that meant. What he did know was that he didn’t need the glasses he wore for his eyes that couldn’t see long distance for the life of them, and when the illness was over, he felt stronger than he ever had before.

He also knew he shouldn’t mention this to anyone. May and Ben would just freak out and Dad-

Well, Tony Stark may be Iron Man, but Peter wasn’t ready for that. Superpowers didn’t mean superhero just yet.

And besides, he was still trying to figure out the whole _spider god_ thing.

 

 

**2 0 1 6 | P E T E R**

Pepper had given him cards to read.

“Truth is,” he said, looking down at the cards. Then, as the reporters waited for him to make his excuses, he threw them to the side.

“I am Spiderman.”

The room didn’t erupt into chaos as he’d hoped, but he smiled anyway.

“I guess that works better when you make a suit of armour, fight terrorists and don’t have your mask ripped off in front of a lot of people, huh?”

He looked to the side, where Tony was struggling to supress a smile. Peter grinned, to himself and to his dad.

“I’ll just pick these up now,” he said, and gathered the cards he’d thrown away. At least, he figured, he was having fun.

 

 

**2 0 1 5 | P E T E R**

_“Is this Peter Parker?”_

“This is he.”

_“Hi, I’m Doctor Paulson from Queens General. I’m calling to inform you that May and Ben Parker have gotten into a car accident.”_

“Are they- are they okay?”

_“Unfortunately, neither of them survived. If possible, would you be able to come down to the hospital tonight to identify the bodies?”_

Peter grabbed his wallet, keys and phone. He left the apartment in such a rush he forgot to put his shoes on.

 

 

**2 0 1 6**

Tony watched Peter’s press conference with a grin.

_That’s my boy._

“How did you get your powers?” a reporter from the Daily Bugle asked.

“I got bit by a radioactive spider and then hallucinated a spider god when I was out cold in my bathroom.”

Tony hesitated. He’d need to ask about that.

Later, when they were in comfortable clothes that didn’t reek of words like _business_ and _formality_ and _professionalism_ , they curled up on the sofa with Pepper, knowing this would be their last quiet moment as a family before the expected onslaught arrived. First would be the articles, the interviews, then the Accords and Peter’s signature would need to be repeated a thousand times.

But for now, it was quiet, and as Peter rested his head on Tony’s shoulder, he couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in his chest. _His son_. He couldn’t believe there were days before Peter; days before _Star Wars_ marathons, suit-building, lab-sharing.

He made this being, this perfect, kind-hearted being that just wanted to help people. Do what the Avengers couldn’t do and save the forgotten people underneath the buildings that crumbled in their battles. Peter Parker, the last Parker left standing and the most courageous of them all.

He thought briefly to that letter, the one he hadn’t considered in a long time now.

Mary Parker was wrong more than she was right, in the end.

Tony Stark pulled more than his weight when it came to his son, and while there were days when he had his doubts, he was sure that Peter’s life was better when he was in it.

There was one thing Mary was right about though. One thing that Tony hadn’t expected, but had felt, strangely on that first day he saw Peter sitting in the waiting room. A thing that bubbled inside his stomach but couldn’t be deciphered for the longest of times.

_I look at him and feel overwhelmed with a sense of love I’ve never known before._

Ah, that was it.

That was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't fit it in anywhere without making it sound forced but like two days after the press conference peter posts the short film he made about being spiderman in the civil war on youtube and it goes viral. also, peter seeing a spider god is one of my favourite ways he gets his powers and its canon in one of the comics.
> 
> anyway
> 
> thank you guys soooo much for reading this fic! i'm really blown away by the reception to it and i'll probably write more irondad spiderson in future, whether in this au or another. my tumblr is [tempestaurora](http://tempestaurora.tumblr.com/) and if you wanna hmu or follow or keep up to date with fic posting, that's the best place to go
> 
> seriously guys, thank you so so much for the love and support. please hit the kudos button if you haven't already and drop me a comment about the end of the fic! i'm always worried about endings but i'm actually really happy with this one. my boys deserve peace and quiet and that's what i wanted to give them after peter's messy time and accidental identity reveal. again, i tried to keep tony as in character as possible, but still taking into account how he would change if he were a father.
> 
> so, kudos, comment, thank you SO MUCH for supporting this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> u read this and that's incredible  
> thank you for doing that  
> i don't believe in cliff hangers or tension lmao fuck that  
> if u could click the kudos that would be rad and id LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE to read feedback and constructive criticism and thoughts and prayers and all that in the comments. its really what keeps me going so pretty please and thank you
> 
> the next chapter will probs be uploaded tomorrow bc lmao its already written and i have no patience


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